


En Pointe

by voodoochild



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2010-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not wrong if they're not who they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Pointe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle V, for the prompt "River/Simon, dance, make-believe".

It's not wrong if they're not who they are.

If Simon is not Simon, but someone else - a dancing-master, boot heels clicking on the deck of the ship they're traveling to a competition on. Not Serenity, not fugitives, just a holiday to Sihnon.

If River is not River, but just a girl - a dancer, a student, one praised for her many accomplishments. No wires coming out or drugs going in, and no hands of blue. Only feet of pink, ribboned toe-shoes criscrossing her ankles and binding her to herself.

Instead there is the stretch of River's legs as she sinks into _grande-plie_, spreading herself wide open on the floor, bare save the pink toe-shoes. There is the sparkle in her eye as she purposefully keeps her feet parallel, and the dull blush on her skin as he brings his hand down on her ass in retaliation.

"Eyes front, Miss Tam," he says, all warmth leeched out of his voice so it isn't him saying the words. "Feet in full fifth. Your form's looking sloppy."

It's not wrong, then, for her to arch into the blow, almost overbalancing herself. Not wrong for him, either, to caress the soft skin on the upstroke, curving his hand into the dip between her buttocks. She's ready for him, if he cared to look - all he needs is to take one step toward her and glance downward, watch a bead of sweat trickle down her stomach to mix with the wetness between her legs.

_Glissade_ right, _arabesque, pas de bouree, glissade_ left: The stretch of her leg, high into the air. The small movements of her legs accentuating their strength.

_Plie, releve, plie, saute_: Strong legs raising her up and down, coiled-spring jump giving her petite breasts a bounce they do not have otherwise.

_Barre_ exercises (they don't have one, but the chair back will do nicely). Right leg resting on the back of the chair, parallel to her head, left leg straight to the ground. The arch of her back and arms as she lowers her head to her right thigh.

She's so wet now he can smell her.

Patience has served them both well, and so he sheds his boots, pants, and shirt. He wears nothing underneath, and her heavy, panting breaths echo through the room as she keeps herself still. She remains in elevated tight fifth, arms rounded over her head, the way he likes. The position shows off the curve of her hips, the length of her legs, and the hard peaks of her nipples as her breasts are pushed up.

She holds, _en pointe_, despite the pleading in her eyes to be allowed release. He could allow it. Allow her to sink to her feet, then her knees and suck him off. Wrap her lips around the base of his cock and twist her tongue around the head like he's taught her. He wants it, badly, but not as badly as he wants to make her climax like this - on her toes.

And so he does.

He commands her into fourth position, bringing her right leg forward and turning her left leg out to give him access between her legs. She exhales on a choked scream, high and startled and wanting, when he slides one hand up the inside of her thigh and strokes her clit. As he begins a harsh up-and-down stroke, he isn't sure if her legs will hold, so he slides his other arm to encircle her waist. She could sink against him, allow him to support her, but she knows it's not what he wants most.

She gives him what he wants; sobbing and pleading for him to fuck her. She arches and sweats and keens, rubbing her ass against his rigid cock but never coming off her toes. Even though she wobbles, ankles turning inward in the natural response to intense pleasure, she never comes down.

As he lifts her, wrapping her tired legs around his waist and giving in to her pleas, it's still not wrong. Because while she calls his name and he calls hers, they're still not Simon and River.

River Tam always came back down.


End file.
